


Broken Dreams

by infernalstars



Series: Sleepy Bois Inc [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Adopted Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Alternate Universe, Angry TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Based on the Dream SP but not really, Dadza, Drug Addiction, Other, Philza minecraft is a dad, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Technoblade Protects TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Tommy needs a hug, Tubbo is here too, Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot is Not Okay, Wilbur is a drug addict in this, sleepy bois inc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infernalstars/pseuds/infernalstars
Summary: A happy family crumbles but at least they have each other.
Series: Sleepy Bois Inc [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164218
Comments: 18
Kudos: 124





	1. The Broken

**Author's Note:**

> very important: i am viewing these people as characters. this fic has NOTHING to do with them as actual people. however, if it crosses any of their boundaries it will be deleted immediately.
> 
> trigger warnings: mentions of drug abuse/addiction, depression and suicidal ideation, craving
> 
> hi hello this is gonna be a multi chapter fic, but I'm nearly done with it so you won't have to wait too long. i hope you enjoy and please please do not read if any of the trigger warnings are going to cause you any harm. i love you! <3

Wilbur strums his guitar aimlessly, humming a soft melody. He isn't paying particular attention to the action, but he's too afraid to sit in silence and too tired to actually play. 

He wonders, faintly, how long he's been sitting here, strumming away. He slowly comes back to earth, eyes finding the clock across the room. It reads ten pm. 

His fingers stumble on the strings. The humming dies in his throat. He looks to his abandoned homework on the bed and sets the guitar aside. 

Phil worked late tonight. They'd been on their own for dinner and he faintly wondered if his brothers had neglected to eat too. Techno might have, but Tommy was a growing boy; he ate everything in sight. 

Wilbur checked his phone and saw a couple notifications from his friends. A group chat with nearly a hundred notifications and a text from Techno earlier asking if he wanted to go get McDonalds with him and Tommy.

They left and Wilbur hadn't heard a damn thing. 

He tried to ignore his concern for his well-being and got up off the bed. He changed into a hoodie and sweatpants padding out to the kitchen. He did his best to be quiet, but found Techno and Phil still awake in the kitchen. 

Their voices died the moment he stepped into the kitchen. They all stared at each other. 

“Don't let me stop you,” Wilbur said, voice hoarse from his endless humming. 

Techno shifted in his chair, casting his eyes down. His bubblegum pink hair was tied up on top of his head. He donned a university sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. He looked tired. 

Phil did too. With his blonde hair tied low, dark bags under his eyes, wearing a loose t-shirt and a robe. They were both hunched over cups of coffee that Wilbur hoped was decaf (he doubted it).

Wilbur rummaged through the fridge, but nothing sparked his interest. Nothing did these days. Well, one thing did. He tried his best to ignore it.

He really did. 

“Wil,” Phil said gently. “Will you sit for a minute?”

Wilbur frowned but made his way over to the table. “Am I in trouble? Tommy did it, whatever it is.”

“You're not in trouble,” Phil said quietly.

“Are you using again,” Techno demanded. “I really can't be dealing with this right now, I've got finals--”

“Oh! You've got finals, have you? Sorry, I'll just put my addiction on pause for you.”

Fire always met fire in this house. Wilbur was usually the slowest to anger, but running on only two hours of sleep and absolutely no food made him much faster. He knew it was the part of him that was itching for a hit that was speaking. He absently scratched the crook of his elbow. God he wanted it so badly. 

“I didn't mean it like that,” Techno said, voice softer with guilt. 

“You know the world doesn't revolve around you.”

Wilbur could feel himself pushing further away. He wanted them to want to be distant from him. He wanted them to stop caring. To prove his intrusive thoughts right and give him an excuse to stick himself with a needle. 

“Let's start again,” Phil said quietly. “Wil, Techno is worried about you. He just wants to know if he's right to worry.”

God, yes, Wilbur wanted to scream. Fall into Phil’s arms crying and have his father put the pieces back together again. He swallowed the truth like a pill taken without water. 

“No. There's nothing to worry about.”

“Wilbur you've skipped dinner every night this week and your teachers keep calling about unfinished homework assignments. I wouldn't say there's nothing to worry about.”

“I'm not gonna kill myself, alright? Is that what you want from me?” Wilbur snapped at them, pushing away from the table. 

He made his way to the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. He felt a slight pang of guilt when he heard Tommy asking what was wrong. 

-

The next morning, no alarm woke Wilbur. He didn't set one. 

He woke up and found that it was nearly noon. He had countless texts from his friends at school asking where he was, if he was okay. He knew they were worried about him using again too. He didn’t bother replying, pretty certain that if they were truly concerned they’d have asked Tommy about it and gotten their answer from him.

His head throbbed from the shit sleep he managed to get. His stomach grumbled painfully. He wrapped himself in his blanket and went in search of food. He found Phil standing in the kitchen making grilled cheese. 

His adoptive father looked over his shoulder. “Want one?”

“Sure.”

Today was a better day than yesterday. He felt like eating. Plus, grilled cheese was his favorite. Phil knew that. He was doing this on purpose.

“Can we talk about yesterday?”

“I'm sorry,” Wilbur said instantly. 

He watched Phil place the grilled cheese on a plate for him. He couldn't look him in the eyes. Phil would see right through him. Right through to the itch where old track marks lay.

“I know. You scared Techno pretty bad, by the way. He couldn't sleep last night.”

“Oh.”

-

The first time Techno learned that Wilbur used, he found him high out of his mind on the bathroom floor. He was sobbing, holding his guitar to his chest. 

He was inconsolable. 

Techno was the first to find him. He froze, fear in his eyes. How much had he taken, how high was he? He knelt down trying to get Wilbur to answer him. To even look at him. 

It was the first time anyone had seen Techno cry. The first time Tommy was speechless. 

Phil knew Wilbur had a history with addiction before he came to stay with them. He'd been going to counseling regularly, and hadn't shown any signs of slipping up.

Techno checked to see if he showed signs of overdose. When the answer was most likely a no, he made sure Wilbur drank some water and helped him into bed just as Phil had been woken by Tommy. 

Tommy didn't have anything to say. The youngest child sat outside his brother's room for hours in case he needed him. 

Techno cried that night. Techno always put up a front, acting like he didn't give a shit about his brothers. It was all a lie. 

Wilbur never stopped feeling guilty about it. He secretly wished he’d just taken a little bit more.

-

“I'm really not using. You can check my room, my phone—I swear I'm clean.”

Wilbur rushed out the words. Though they were the truth, they felt like the worlds biggest lie, guilt heavy on his chest. He was usually much better with words, each one chosen so carefully. Each one worth nothing without the next. But he was weak. 

“But you want to.”

“Well, that's sort of how addiction works, isn't it?” Wilbur said quietly, picking at the crust of his grilled cheese.

Phil said nothing for what felt like forever. Wilbur nibbled on his sandwich, but guilt made him feel ill.

“Yeah, I want to. Really bad,” Wilbur said finally. “Is that what you wanted me to say?”

“No. I wished you'd said no.”

Wilbur felt the words. They made his chest ache. He wished the answer was no. That he didn't toss and turn and night thinking about the extra secret stash he had hidden under a floorboard in the bottom of Techno’s closet. 

Phil would never search that mess for Wilbur’s drugs. It was the best hiding spot imaginable. 

Wilbur debated telling him for a moment, just to rid the temptation. He felt safer knowing there was some nearby incase he needed it. He kept his mouth shut. 

“Have you been talking to your therapist about this?” Phil asks. 

Wilbur nods. 

That's true. 

He has been. To an extent. He’s told her that he's felt depressed lately. Which is true. With the depression comes the desire to feel something. The solution is in the bottom of his older brother's closet. 

“Go wake up your brother,” Phil said, setting out a second plate. 

Wilbur looked up surprised. Was that the end of the conversation? It couldn't be. 

He got up, going first to Tommy’s room, but found it empty. He saw a bed of blankets and pillows on the floor meaning either Tubbo, Ranboo or both stayed overnight again. Tubbo’s parents fought a lot so he liked to stay here. Ranboo was a mystery to all of them, really, but Phil kept the door open to anyone who might need it.

He went to Technos room and found the pink haired college student sleeping in a burrito of blankets. He was clutching his phone in one hand, the other tucked under his pillow.

“Wake up,” Wilbur said, kicking the end of his bed. 

He knew better than to try and shake him awake. He'd lose a finger. Techno grumbled something, hiding further under the blankets. 

Wilbur decided that was good enough and left for the kitchen again. 

Phil was on the phone when he came back. He looked upset. “I’ll be there shortly.” 

Phil let out a string of curses and turned off the stove. “I have to go pick up Tommy. I’ll be back in thirty minutes. Try not to kill each other.” 

Wilbur shrugged, picking at his food. Phil sighed and made his way toward the door. He wasn’t sure how much time passed between Phil leaving and Techno emerging from his room. He made his way over the pot of coffee and poured himself a cup. 

“I’m sorry about last night,” Wilbur said. “The last few days. All of it. I-I know that it affects you too, I’m not stupid. Just--”

“Tired,” they both said. 

They shared a moment of silence while Techno sipped on his coffee. 

“You even have Tubbo worried, you know?” 

Wilbur raised an eyebrow. 

“He thinks of you as a brother, Wil,” Techno said. 

“I’m not gonna use again,” Wilbur said quietly. Maybe if he said it again, it’d be true. 

Techno had no response. Wilbur didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. The only thing on his mind was the needle in Techno’s closet.


	2. The Beaten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When things fall apart, Tommy gets brushed aside. He hates being ignored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: this is strictly about the people in this fic as characters, not the actual ccs. will delete if it crosses any boundaries.
> 
> trigger warning: mentions of past abuse, drug use, relapse related to drug use, addiction, homelessness, some references to violence 
> 
> hellllooooo! this chapter is quite heavy but i also think it's my favorite! i hope you enjoy and please read with caution. 
> 
> lmk your thoughts in the comments :)

Tommy leaned his head against the car seat, ignoring the dull headache forming behind his eyes. It was worth it, he decided. What those kids said to Tubbo was unacceptable. 

“Tommy,” Phil said. “I’m glad you’re willing to stand up for Tubbo, but please do it with less violence next time.”

“He hit me first,” Tommy exclaimed, a blatant lie. 

Phil sighed, pulling up to a stop sign. He glanced at his youngest son, searching for the lie. Tommy stood his ground. 

“Seriously. Wil’s enough to handle right now. Just...behave yourself. Please.” 

That hurt more than the punch to his temple had. He closed his eyes against the tears and let out a slow, calming breath. Just like he’d been taught to by the guidance counselor. Just like Techno did whenever Tommy pushed him too far. 

It was always Wilbur this, Techno that. Never Tommy. Tommy always had to behave so Phil could deal with his adult--well Wilbur was still seventeen, technically--sons instead of the fourteen year old child. Not even a fight on Tubbo’s behalf could get his attention. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Can Ranboo come over tonight?”

“That’s the third time this week,” Phil commented. 

“So?” 

Phil shrugged. “Maybe his parents want him home.”

“They don’t,” Tommy said quickly. 

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Do they hurt him?” 

“No.”

“Tommy,” Phil pressed. He knew something was wrong, he couldn’t quite figure it out. Tommy did his best to keep him from figuring it out. 

“He just doesn’t like them, okay? You don’t have to worry about anything but Wilbur and Techno, okay? Just drop it.” 

Phil was silent. He pulled into the driveway. Techno was climbing into his car as they arrived home. Tommy slipped past them into the house where Wilbur was washing the dishes. He climbed up onto the chairs at the island and grabbed the extra grille cheese on the counter. 

“That’s Phil’s,” Wilbur said, looking over his shoulder. He turned off the sink, nodding to Tommy’s temple. “Nice bruise. Who did you fight?” 

“Some random kid. He said a bad word to Tubbo in class.”

Wilbur frowned. “What’s the other guy look like?” 

A grin splintered Tommy’s face. “A black eye and a split lip.” 

Wilbur high fived his younger brother. He had always insisted that if Tommy was going to start fights, he might as well win them. 

Both of them knew that Tommy wasn’t a good fighter, but he was fast. If he was quick enough he could do some good damage before the other guy could react. Techno taught him that. Wilbur preferred to fight with words himself, but even when Tommy used his words it devolved into violence. 

“That was mine,” Phil said, watching Tommy eat the grilled cheese. The younger boy just shrugged and finished eating it. “Whatever. You need it more than me.” 

He leaned against the counter next to the sink and rubbed his temple. Tommy assumed it was a migraine. Phil usually got them when Tommy did something bad. He failed to see how a fight was worthy of a migraine. Tommy got in lots of fights. It could have been much worse.

Tommy looked over at Wilbur, seeing he shared in his concern. 

“It was just a fight, Phil...It’s not that bad,” he said quietly, guilt slowly starting to consume him.

“It’s not you. I’m tired is all,” he shrugged it off. 

“If it's because of last night—” Wilbur started. 

Phil silenced him, raising his hand. Wilbur fell silent, frowning at his father. “I'm going to my room. Try not to burn the house down. Call Techno if you need anything.”

They watched him leave in silence.

“What happened yesterday?” Tommy asked after Phil’s door closed. “No one will tell me!”

“They thought I was taking drugs again,” Wilbur admitted to him. 

“Were you?” Tommy asks. It's not rude, it's genuine. 

He cares for Wilbur in a way he doesn't for others. Wilbur is family through blood. He's been the only constant in Tommy’s life. Even when Wilbur was high out of his mind, he was there. 

Tommy cannot lose him. 

He already lost the two CDS he managed to keep through the foster system from their childhood when a neighborhood bully ran them over with his bike. Wilbur was the only constant. If anything happened to Wilbur, Tommy would devolve. Slowly but surely. 

“No. I wouldn't do that,” he said. “Things are really good now. Don't want to ruin that.”

It's a lie, they both know it. Everyone's on edge. Techno is pushing himself to the edge with school, getting angrier at Tommy everyday. Tommy’s getting in trouble more often. Wilbur’s dangerously close to a relapse. Phil’s barely able to balance work and the three of them. 

The house was one step away from crumbling around them. 

“I hate you when you're high,” Tommy mumbled. 

“I'm not like him.”

Before they came to Phil, they'd been staying with this family that looked super nice on the outside. Behind closed doors, the father drank whatever he could and the mother shot up to ignore it. 

Wilbur had learned that if he got high he could handle the fathers abuse. Tommy faced it all sober. 

Where Wilbur had little memory of the year and a half of violence and yelling and only some songs to piece together the events, every inch of that house was imprinted in Tommy’s mind. He still had nightmares, sometimes. He’d made Wilbur get rid of the guitar he used to play when Tommy couldn’t sleep. 

Tommy didn’t think he’d ever forget it. 

He hated when his brother got high. 

He was louder when he was using. Quicker to violence, even if he was just teasing Tommy. He remembered how angry Wilbur got if he hadn't taken a hit in a while. How impatient he was.

Tommy remembered finding him trying to sneak out the window, but being too high to lift himself out of the window. It was terrifying to see your brother like that.

“Phil said Ranboo could come over tonight,” he said. “Will you take me to pick him up after school?”

“Sure,” Wilbur said, watching Tommy retreat to the family room to watch TV to ignore the fear of having to see Wilbur high.

-

Tommy and Ranboo seldom did anything but play video games. They were cooped up in Tommy’s room all night after dinner laughing and having fun. Wilbur was moping around his room until he suddenly decided to take over the entire family room with his English assignment. 

So, Tommy’s room it was.

As the clock above Tommy’s bed struck three the two boys made their way to the bathroom. Ranboo snuck showers at night while Tommy did his laundry as fast as humanly possible. It kept Phil from asking more unnecessary questions and kept Ranboo clean.

Tonight was a different story though.

The house was almost too quiet and the bathroom door was shut...Tommy raised an eyebrow but pushed it open anyway. The door was never shut with the light off. 

Tommy heard something clatter to the ground then the ruffle of the shower curtain. He flicked on the light and saw Wilbur sitting on the floor near the shower, a needle dropped on the floor. He looked exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that sank deep to your soul. An emotional exhaustion. 

Tommy was frozen. He couldn’t move. He could barely hear Wilbur talking to him. Wilbur’s lips moved but all Tommy heard was ringing in his ears. He heard Wilbur yelling at Ranboo. Ranboo reached out to him, grabbing his arm. 

He turned, breaking free of his friend's grip and ran for his room. He threw himself into the depths of his closet, rocking himself back and forth. It hadn't dawned on him that he’d been crying until Ranboo opened up the door and his vision was blurry. 

“Wilbur--” 

“He’s fine,” Ranboo said sitting down across from him just outside the closet. “He didn’t take anything and Phil’s with him right now.”

Tommy nods. “He said he wouldn't.”

“Are you able to come out?” Ranboo asks.

“No.”

Before Ranboo can answer, Phil knocks. He steps inside. “Ranboo? I'm sorry about Wil. Are you alright?”

Ranboo nods. “It's fine. I don't know about Tommy though.”

He gestures toward the closet. Phil walks over a few paces behind Ranboo and sighs. Not angry or upset. Not at him at least, Tommy recognizes. 

“Tommy?”

Tommy looked up at Phil. He feels like he might be sick. 

“Are you okay, Tommy?”

Tommy contemplates this. He shakes his head no. 

“Can you talk?”

He nods. “Yes.” 

“Good. What do you need?” 

Tommy considered it. His eyes flickered to Ranboo who watched on with his two different colored eyes. 

“Ranboo. And Wilbur. Can he stay with us tonight?” Tommy asked quietly, feeling his face grow warm with embarrassment. 

The reason he is upset is also his form of comfort. He wasn’t stupid. He knew he’d likely upset himself more by being around Wil right now. He just wanted his big brother. The same big brother who comforted him after nightmares, during storms. 

The same big brother that'd lash out at him because their foster mom used up the last of their supply and then hours later sing him a song on the guitar. The same big brother who helped him collect the shards of his CD’s and put them into a shadow box so he'd always have them. The same big brother who slept in his room for weeks after moving to Phil's because he was scared to be alone in a new house. 

Whatever was happening he knew Wilbur was there for him. He was a constant. A comfort. 

“I--Sure. I’ll go get him,” Phil said and paused in the doorway. “Ranboo, if it’s uncomfortable for you--” 

“It’s okay. I just want to make sure Tommy’s okay,” Ranboo rushed out. 

Phil seemed to hesitate but accepted this. Tommy sniffled and rubbed at his eyes before climbing out of his closet, moving to his bed. He wrapped his red blanket tight around himself.

A moment later Wilbur came into the room, red eyed and...well, he looked exhausted. Even more so than before. 

“I’m sorry,” Wilbur said looking down at Ranboo. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

Ranboo nods. “It’s okay. It happens. I know you didn’t mean it.” 

Tommy never asked much about what Ranboo’s parents had been like but based on how calmly he handled all of this...Tommy suspected it wasn’t the greatest. He seemed numb to it.

Wilbur seemed surprised by this answer. “Good. I really didn’t. You were just trying to help. Thank you.” 

Ranboo nods. He moved the blankets on his makeshift bed on the floor and climbed under them. “Goodnight.” 

Wilbur looks up to Tommy who moves over on the bed, making room for him. Wilbur sits next to him. They sit in silence for a long time. So long that Ranboo’s quiet, gentle snoring fills the room.

“I’m sorry,” Wilbur tells him. 

Tommy knows he is, but it feels good to hear it.. “I know. I know it’s hard for you too. He hurt you too. It’s not all about me.”

Wilbur makes a face, turning to look at him. “Very mature of you, Tommy.” 

“Yeah well, I’m very mature.” 

Wilbur laughs gently. There’s no emotion behind it and it breaks Tommy’s heart. It hurts because he doesn’t know how to help. It hurts because he's just a kid. He's doing his best. 

“Can I ask you something?” Tommy says, turning to look up at him. 

Wilbur nods. 

“Why do you still do drugs if we aren't there anymore? We're safe now. So, why?” he asks. 

Wilbur smiles sadly at Tommy. “Well they're addictive. If I take them and then stop I go through withdrawal which is really painful. And even if I get through that, it will be something in the back of my mind that I will just keep wanting. It's hard to stop. Even when everything is perfect.”

“Nothing's ever perfect,” Tommy points out. “Nothings ever fair.”

“That's the one constant in life, Toms.”

Tommy frowns at this. Wilbur had been his constant. Was the unfairness in life Wilbur’s constant? 

“I guess that's true,” Tommy whispered, eyes falling on Ranboo sleeping on the floor. “Really unfair.”

Ranboo was homeless. He was only seventeen. He'd been through enough for a couple lifetimes. He deserved to know he had somewhere warm and dry to sleep.

Life was unfair. Tommy could fix that for Ranboo.

“Ranboo needs our help,” Tommy spits out. 

“What?” Wilbur asked, confused.

“He's homeless, Wil. That's why he's here all the time.”

“He's—Tommy. why didn't you say anything.”

“He told me not to, but then you said life was unfair but I don't think it has to be a constant. We can change that for him.”

Wilbur is silent. Tommy ‘s heart races. Did he fuck up? Should he have kept quiet? 

“You know we have to tell Phil, right?” Wilbur says finally. 

“Tell Phil what?” a voice asks from the doorway.

Both Wilbur and Tommy flinch, before realizing it's Techno. He makes his way over to the bed and sits down.

“Couldn't sleep,” he explained.

“Sorry,” Wilbur says, knowing he was the reason.

“What aren't we telling Phil,” Techno repeats.

“That I'm homeless,” Ranboo answers, scaring all three of the boys. 

“Ranboo, I'm sorry—” 

“No. It's okay actually. I trust Phil.”

Tommy nods. Ranboo joins the other three on the bed, the four of them passed out in varying places on Tommy's king sized bed. 

Tommy and Wilbur stay up whispering to each other until the sun poles through the windows. Shared secrets about favorite forbidden snacks, favorite times of year, sunrise versus sun set. An argument about why Phil was the best dad in the world. An anxious conversation about what Phil might say about Ranboo being homeless. A reassurance that he'd do his best to help. 

“The sun is rising,” Wilbur said quietly. “Get some sleep, Toms.”

Tommy curled into his pillow. “Goodnight Wilby,” Tommy mumbled his nickname for his older brother. He rarely used it anymore but he was so tired he didn't even notice he used it. 

He fell asleep before the sun could completely sleep through the windows. 

It was their last good night for a while.


	3. The Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno has to fill Wilbur's role of big brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: drug abuse, drug overdose, relapse, hospitals, withdrawl, rehab, violence, mentions of past abuse 
> 
> hellloooo :) please enjoy tommy and techno sibling dynamic because i love it a lot :) one more chapter to go!!!!!!!

Techno did not handle change well. That wasn't a secret either. 

He nearly had a breakdown when Phil said he was fostering Tommy and Wilbur. He locked himself in his room for a week when he said he was adopting them. He had a panic attack when Wilbur and Phil rearranged the living room one day. 

Change truly was not his thing. 

When he asked Wilbur to dye his hair a few shades lighter brown, Wilbur dyed it pink as a joke. He'd cried for hours but refused to change it back so now he was stuck with bubble gum pink hair. He could not physically, nor emotionally, go through the change again.

However, when Phil announced that Ranboo was going to be staying with them from now on, he didn't bat an eye. Phil had even, not so subtly, raided his room for anything he might use to hurt himself with beforehand.

Techno had the habit to hurt himself when he got overwhelmed. When the world around him slipped from his control he lashed out. Either at himself or at someone else. 

Years of counseling told him that the latter was not acceptable. While the former was not acceptable it kept his anger more private (until his counselor tattled to Phil, that is). 

Phil’s precautions were pointless this time. Techno just shrugged and returned to his essay. He only got a few seconds of work in before he realized he didn't care. 

It hit him hard, stopped him cold in his tracks. Maybe the combination of therapy and medication was really doing something. 

The changes only seemed to add up, though. As if testing him. 

A fun game of ‘which change would make him snap?’.

Wilbur, three days after nearly relapsing, wound up in the hospital after an overdose. He had lied about going to his friend Niki’s house and went to a party instead.

At six in the morning Phil got a call. Wilbur was in the hospital. He'd arrived a few hours sooner, but no one at the party knew who he was so they couldn't ID him until he woke.

Techno woke up to find a note from Phil that simply said to call him. Techno had slammed the landline back where it belonged and locked himself in his room.

He knew Wilbur would end up back in rehab. It was a change and he hate that he thought he had any right to be mad about it. 

There was a knock on his door, startling him from his thoughts. 

“Techno. Can you come make us breakfast?” Tommy begged. 

Another change. He'd have to fill Wilbur’s shoes. Tommy always had his big brother. Techno would have to be there while Wilbur couldn't. 

He refused to let both of his brothers fall apart. (He would deny the sentiment if you asked him though).

He took a deep breath and opened up the door. “Yeah, sure. I have something to tell you first.”

“Is it about Phil’s note? I saw it on the table.”

Techno nodded. “Well, it's about Wilbur. Apparently he overdosed earlier this morning. He's fine. He's in the hospital though and Phil is with him.”

“He...No. Wilbur said he wouldn't.”

“I'm sorry,” Techno said. It was dumb to say it, but Techno didn't know what else to offer him. 

Tommy clenched his fists. “I want to visit Wilbur.”

“Why don't you call Phil while I make breakfast? Maybe we can go visit him after we eat.”

Tommy hesitated but accepted this. 

Techno followed Tommy out to the kitchen where Ranboo and Tubbo sat. Tubbo has spent the night with them, as per usual. Today though, he had a nice bruise on his cheek. 

“Did Tommy do that?” Techno asks Tubbo. 

Tommy was prone to violence even if it was playful. It wouldn't have been surprising if it had been from Tommy.

Tommy is quick to the defense. “Of course I fucking didn’t! What kind of monster do you think I am?” 

“Calm down,” Techno says, trying to sound bored and not equally as angry. That's what Phil does when Tommy gets worked up. 

“You're an aashole,” Tommy snaps. Techno doesn't respond. “I wish Wilbur were here instead of you right now. I’d rather it be you instead of him that—”

Techno drops the pan he’s holding and turns fully to look at Tommy. All three of the younger boys flinch when the pan hits the ground. “I wish Wilbur were here too, but I don't wish my brother to be in the hospital after he overdosed on whatever the fuck Wilbur takes.”

“I didn't—”

“Bullshit you didn't. I get that you're upset. I am too. Don’t fucking take it out on me. Call Phil and see if we can visit,” Techno yelled above Tommy’s voice. 

Tommy calmly went over to the landline and dialed Phil’s cell phone number. Techno stepped back, surprised that Tommy didn't yell back. 

Tommy’s hands shook as he raised the phone to his ear. Techno knew he probably pushed too far. He always did, especially with Tommy. Because Tommy pushed him. 

Tommy spoke with Phil but then retreated to his room. Tubbo stayed at the island, playing with the sheep shaped salt and pepper shakers absently. Ranboo looked torn, turning to Techno. 

“Go,” Techno nodded down the hall where Tommy had disappeared to. 

Ranboo hurried down the hall after his friend. Tubbo stayed. Techno cooked. 

The kitchen was far too quiet. The house was far too quiet. 

It was horrible.

-

Techno loathes hospitals. He hates the smell, the sounds, and they're far too white. It's scary. 

Phil is waiting for them in the lobby and walks with him up to Wilbur’s room. Ranboo and Tubbo sit down in the waiting area, playing games on their phones. Techno stops outside the door. 

Tommy’s already gone in, rushing up onto Wil’s bed to hug him. He wonders if Tommy is crying. He's never seen Tommy cry.

“Techno?” Phil asks. 

He looks up at him. “I hate hospitals.”

“Me too,” Phil said. “But it's better to see him now than when the withdrawal kicks in.”

Techno nods. “What if he's mad at me?”

“Why would he be?” 

“For accusing him of using—what if triggered him and he did this because of me.”

Before Phil can answer, Wilbur is calling Techno’s name.

His eyes meet Wilbur’s and god he looks so tired. So defeated. Techno steps into the room and stops at the side of Wilbur's bed. 

“Toms, why don't you go get Ranboo and Tubbo. I'd love to see them,” Wilbur said with a smile. 

Tommy nodded. It was quite easy to persuade him when Wilbur was involved in the matter. Tommy got up, bounding down the hall. 

“I know you're mad,” Wilbur started. 

“I didn't say I was—”

“I don't care. I need a favor,” Wilbur continued on. “Don't do it for me. Do it for Tommy.”

“That doesn't convince me any more,” Techno said. It was a lie, but he'd never say so. 

“He's a good kid. This is gonna upset him. I need you to promise me you'll look out for him. I can't be, so it's up to you,” Wilbur said quietly. “He’ll be angry. He’ll start acting up. I know how this goes. Just...don't let him deal with this alone.”

“Kind of selfish of him to be so upset about it, don't you think?”

“No. It affects him too,” Wilbur shrugged. He closed his eyes and laughed. It was fearful. “I always forget how bad withdrawal is.”

“Is it starting already?”

He nodded. “Not bad. Not yet. I just want to say hi to the boys before it's really bad.”

Techno nodded. He turned to leave. Wilbur grabbed his wrist. 

“The favor—”

“Of course, Wil. Of course.”

Tubbo and Ranboo slowly came in. Hesitant. As if they weren't a part of the family. Wilbur smiled. It was genuine, he loved those two. It masked the pain well.

It made Techno quite sad to see how mature Wilbur was sitting in that hospital bed. Fully understanding what he's done and accepting what was to come. He was still a kid, barely seventeen. 

It wasn't fair. Not a single part of any of their lives had been fair. Techno had always thought that one of them would get a break someday, but it seemed today wasn't that day.

He looked down the hall to the waiting area and saw Tommy hugging Phil. 

This was bad. 

Tommy hated physical touch unless it was with Wilbur. Techno assumed it was related to the abuse he endured before Phil, but neither Wilbur or Tommy spoke of it. 

If he was hugging Phil that meant Techno’s favor to Wilbur would be a big one. He had big shoes to fill. Even bigger shoes with Ranboo around all the time now.

-

“Techno, can you drive us to Tubbo’s,” Tommy asked bursting into the room. “We’re bored.”

Techno flinched at the sudden intrusion. He valued privacy. His room was a private space. Tommy had a serious lack of respect that was evident in his ignoring the knocking rule Techno enforced. 

“Ask Phil,” he said, not looking up from the textbook. 

“Phil’s busy,” Tommy said, sitting on Techno’s bed. 

Techno snapped the book shut. He turned in his seat, looking over at him. “Why can’t you and Ranboo just hang out?”

“Because I hang out with him all the time and Tubbo just got a new video game we want to play. We don’t have the right console,” he explained. 

“Why is this my problem?” 

Techno knew exactly why. He hated playing chauffeur, chef, babysitter. He didn’t have time for it. How Wil did it all, he didn’t know. He exhaled slowly. Phil was busy enough between Wilbur and work, he wasn't about to make Tommy his problem too.

“Can it wait? Thirty minutes? I have to finish this reading,” he said. 

Tommy nodded. 

A half an hour later, Techno emerged from his room, grabbing his keys and calling for Tommy. Phil looked up from his spot on the couch. 

“Where are you taking them?” he asked, pausing the show. 

“To Tubbo’s. Tommy said you were busy,” Techno said, reaching for his shoes. 

“Tommy’s grounded. He’s not allowed,” Phil said just as Tommy came down the stairs with Ranboo behind him. 

Tommy froze, letting out a quiet curse. Ranboo stood behind him, suppressing his laughter. 

“You’re grounded?” Techno asked. 

“No,” Tommy said, just as Phil said, “Yes.” 

“What did you do?” Techno asked. 

“Got into a fight. It’s not a big deal,” Tommy decided. “I should be allowed to go to Tubbo’s.” 

“Not when you punch people in the face for no reason,” Phil said. “You have homework to do, anyway. Ranboo can go, but you stay.” 

“I didn’t know you got into a fight,” Techno said. 

“Yeah. Just like my older brother right!” Tommy said, glaring at Techno. 

Techno’s high school career was riddled with fights and issues with authority. Once he started going to anger management classes, he got himself sorted out and was able to get good grades and get into a good college. 

Tommy was different. He just didn’t give a shit. He just wanted attention. Instead of communicating, he lashed out and hoped someone spared a look his way. 

It pissed Techno off. He wasn’t sure how Phil and Wilbur tolerated it. 

They were nothing alike. Techno struggled to remain calm, Tommy did it to be the center of attention. It was selfish, childish. 

“Can you drive Ranboo,” Techno asked Phil.

Phil nodded getting up, stretching. He grabbed his keys and shoes. Techno and Tommy stood in the entryway, watching them go. 

“Why’d you punch him,” Techno asked.

“I don’t know. I was upset and he wouldn’t shut up,” he said, shrugging. 

“Wilbur wouldn’t--” 

“I’ll punch you too if you’d like,” Tommy offered, hands clenched into fists. 

“I’d kill you in a fight. Don’t bother,” Techno said, trying to sound bored. 

Tommy was shaking. “Don’t bring Wilbur into this. It doesn’t concern him.” 

“Of course it does. Why else would you be punching people at random?” Techno asked, walking into the kitchen. Tommy followed close behind. 

“You’re an asshole. You piece of absolute shit!” Tommy yelled. “Fuck you! I hate you. I meant what I said. I wish Wilbur was here and you weren’t. Pathetic fucking excuse for a brother!” 

Techno tried not to get angry. He tilted his head to the side fighting the anger. He pulled a glass out of the cupboard and didn’t respond at all. 

“Don’t fucking ignore me!” Tommy yelled voice cracking. He knocked the glass from Techno’s hand. 

The glass shattered and silence fell on the kitchen once again. 

“What the hell,” Techno cursed, shoving past Tommy to get the broom and dust pan. 

Tommy stood there staring down at the broken glass. He was shaking.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m mad at Wil.” 

“Yeah, I can tell. Why are you talking it out on me,” Techno asked, sweeping up the glass. Tommy stepped back from it. 

“Because I can’t take it out on him. You usually fight back,” he said quietly. “Why didn’t you?” 

Techno disposed of the glass. He grabbed a new glass and got a glass of water. He shrugged. “I don’t know, honestly. I wanted to. You make it easy. I promised Wilbur I’d take care of you.” 

“I promise Wilbur I’d be nice to you,” Tommy admitted. “I wish he was here.”

“Me too, but punching people doesn’t bring him home sooner,” Techno said, with all the wisdom he had. 

Tommy nodded. He didn’t say anything else before he made his way back upstairs. Techno dropped his head to the table, making a mental note to thank Phil for doing this for all of them. He was fucking tired. 

For Wilbur, he reminded himself. For Wilbur. 

-  
Techno took Tommy to visit Wilbur the next week. Visiting hours worked perfectly so they could go right after school. 

“I’m nervous to see him,” Tommy admitted as they sat in the parking lot. 

Neither of them had moved in five minutes. The car was turned off. 

“Why,” Techno deadpanned. 

“What if he’s not getting better,” he asked. 

Techno shrugged. If he were to be honest, he was scared too. He didn’t want to go in and see Wilbur exactly how they left him. He wanted to see a real smile on his brother's face. He just wanted Wilbur to be okay. 

It might break him if he saw a broken shell of Wilbur sitting in there. He wouldn’t be able to leave him there like that. The thought of what that could do to Tommy scared him.

Phil had simply said: “He’s been okay.” He sounded so tired, both Tommy and Techno assumed the worst.

“Lets go,” Techno said, opening up his door. 

Tommy followed suit. They signed in and a nurse led them to Wilbur’s ward. He tried to ignore that Tommy grabbed his arm in a fit of anxiety. He wasn’t a fan of touch, but neither was Tommy. Unless he was upset. He let him hold on. 

If they were going to see Wilbur, and it wasn’t good, he wasn’t about to let his little brother do it alone.

However, what they say wasn’t a shell of Wilbur. It was so much more than that. 

Wilbur was sitting in the corner and god he was laughing. He was at the piano, tapping away at those keys. A couple of other people were standing around him listening. 

Tommy’s grip tightened on Techno’s arm. Techno felt dizzy. This felt surreal. 

The nurse gestured for them to go on ahead. 

Techno and Tommy made their way over to Wilbur in the corner. His fingers stumbled on the keys when he saw them. He got up, rushing over to hug them. Wilbur went straight for Tommy first, scooping up his brother in a hug. 

“Toms!” he cried. “I was wondering when you’d come!” 

Tommy stepped back. He was crying. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too kid,” Wilbur said and ruffled his hair. Tommy laughed, swatting it away. 

Techno fought a smile, watching the two of them. He hated that he loved them as much as he did. 

“Hey, Techno,” Wilbur said, opening his arms for a hug. 

Techno sighed and hugged him tight. He wasn’t physical, but he was so happy to see his brother happy.

“You look good,” Techno said, stepping back. 

“I feel good,” Wilbur said. “I hate being in here, but they’ve got this music therapy program. It’s so cool.”

Techno nodded. “Two more weeks.”

Wilbur nodded. “The nurses say I’m doing great.” 

“That’s great,” Techno said sincerely. He meant it, he was glad to see him doing well.

He still couldn’t help the image of Wilbur in the hospital bed that flared against his eyelid. He let Tommy hold onto his arm on the way out. 

Two more weeks.


	4. Demons / Non-Believers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur returns home & Ranboo finds his place in his new family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: mentions/references to abuse, drug use, rehab, addiction 
> 
> hello!!!! so this is the final chapter but i had so much fun writing this fic that i've decided to make this a series. i have a tommy centric fic in the works and more ideas on the way. i hope you enjoyed this fic tho <333 thank you for reading

Ranboo sat on the edge of his bed in the basement, listening to whoever was pacing back and forth upstairs. It was probably Techno. Tommy didn’t pace. When he got anxious he went into a shut down. He was probably sitting at the island, eyes fixed on those sheep shaped salt and pepper shakers that acted like a centerpiece. 

Phil would be back soon with Wilbur. He was finally coming home after being gone for a month and Ranboo was scared. 

He’d managed to fit well into the family dynamic so far, what if he didn’t fit in with Wilbur. What if it ruined what they had? And he couldn’t go and ask Wilbur to leave--It would be him that left. 

He tried the breathing exercises Techno had taught him when he found him having a panic attack in the back of the pantry. He inhaled through his nose, exhaled through his mouth. He tried to name all the things he could see. 

He tried to tell himself it would be okay. 

He heard the car door close and the pacing stopped. 

“Ranboo!” Techno called out. His voice wavered. “Wil’s home.” 

Ranboo hesitated. He was expected to greet him like he was a part of the family. It freaked him out. He’d never had that before. 

He climbed up the stairs, hearing Tommy’s voice grow louder with excitement. It wasn’t the anger and hostility that had filled the house the last few weeks. He was happy. As he emerged from the basement, he spotted Tommy bouncing around in front of Wilbur who was taking off his hat and coat with a smile.

Phil looked happy. Exhausted but happy. He leaned against the door, watching Tommy excitedly tell Wilbur about how his piano lessons went, how he hates how slow his instructor teaches, how he rearranged his room while Wilbur was gone. 

Wilbur listened, never searching for an exit, never telling him to shut up. Until he spotted Ranboo by the basement stairs. 

He looked down at Tommy. “Did you make Ranboo stay in the basement?” 

“I didn’t! I wanted to share a room with him but Phil said he should have his own space,” Tommy said, rising to the defense. It wasn’t quite the same tone that he used with Techno or Phil was they accused him of something, but it was close. 

Wilbur looked over at Phil who simply shrugged. “I offered my office but he wanted the basement.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Ranboo assured Wilbur. “Welcome home.” 

Wilbur smiled. “Thanks. Happy to be back.” 

Tommy quickly redirected the attention back to him, telling Wilbur about different things he missed. He followed his brother up the stairs, still chatting away. 

“He missed him,” Ranboo said, more to himself than anyone else. 

“Tommy idolizes the ground Wilbur walks on. It’s probably some sort of attachment disorder,” Techno said dismissively, turning his attention to Phil. “Is he okay?” 

Phil shrugged. “Doctors say it’s hard to tell if he’s putting up a front or not, but he wants to remain in outpatient treatment. You guys tell me if he starts acting up, okay?” 

“He seems happy,” Ranboo said, again, more to himself but Phil smiled. 

“He does.” 

“It’s unsettling. When my parents—” he stopped himself. “Nevermind.” 

Ranboo turned and slammed the door to the basement shut. He sat down on his bed and tried The breathing techniques Techno had shown him. 

-

Ranboo slowly made his way upstairs. 

There was something that told him to go check on Wilbur. Some gut instinct. 

Some part of him remembered watching his parents fall prey to their addictions that made him eager to ensure Wilbur’s safety. He would do whatever it took to make sure that this family didn’t fall apart more than it was. 

If Wilbur fell apart again it’d just be a domino effect. It would take out Tommy, then Techno, the Phil and it’d leave Ranboo all along again. 

He gently knocked on Wilbur’s door, listening carefully. He heard the quiet guitar strumming pause. Wilbur opened up the door a moment later. 

“Ranboo,” Wilbur said, surprised. “Is everything okay?” 

“That’s what I came to see.” 

Wilbur raised an eyebrow. “Oh. I’m alright. Thanks.” 

“Are you,” Ranboo pressed. 

Wilbur shrugged. “I’m happy to be home, but I’m not magically cured if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Ranboo nods. “Can I...I don’t know who else to talk to that would understand. I don’t think Tommy would get it. I think you would.” 

Wilbur looked mildly worried as he let Ranboo into his room and cleared the sheet music off his bed so they could sit. 

“My parents…they were addicts,” Ranboo said without looking at him. “I don’t remember much, but bits and pieces are coming back recently. It’s not good stuff.” 

Wilbur frowned. “I’m sorry if I triggered anything, I--” 

“No. No, god, no. I didn’t come here to guilt you for something beyond your control. I just...I can’t stand the thought of how the others would react if I told them some of the things they did. The stuff I remember.” 

“Phil could see if there's someone you could talk to--” 

“I hate therapists,” Ranboo snapped. “Can I ask why you take drugs? I never understood why my parents did it. Never asked.”

“My brain is a very busy, very cruel place. Sometimes it feels like the only escape,” Wilbur said with ease. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

They sat in silence for a while. 

“Did they hurt you?” 

Ranboo shrugged. “Not that I can remember. Which is probably a sign that they did,” he said with a sad laugh. “What I remember is them taking any money I managed to find, we wouldn’t eat some weeks so they could afford the drugs...that kind of stuff I remember.” 

“I’m sorry,” Wilbur said sincerely. 

“I thought you could use some company tonight.”

Ranboo knew what being alone could do to someone. Wilbur didn't deserve that. 

Wilbur smiled. “You're smart.”

“Did you write these songs?” Ranboo asked, pointing to the sheet music at the end of the bed. 

“I wrote a lot of songs while I was there,” he said. “Would you like to hear one?” 

Ranboo nodd. He's never had the chance to hear Wilbur play. He's heard quiet strumming at night, but never a full song. 

Wilbur grabbed his guitar, he tuned it for a moment and Ranboo watched. He didn't know much about the guitar, but he liked learning new things. He studied the motions. 

Wilbur hummed a bit as he strummed. He sat up straighter and started to sing softly. 

“Wasting your time, You're wasting mine, I hate to see you leaving, A fate worse than dying,” he sang. He kept humming through what Ranboo guessed would have been the chorus. He looked up at him. “That's as far as I got with that song.”

“You're really good.”

“Thank you.”

They fell into a comfortable silence where Wilbur set his guitar aside and moved the sheet music off the bed. He climbed under the covers. 

“You can stay up here tonight if you'd like. I bet the basement is cold.”

“Are you sure?” 

Wilbur nodded.

“You're more than welcome. Always.”

“Always,” Ranboo echoed. 

“Yeah. You're family.”

Family. Ranboo curled up on the other side of Wilbur’s bed, putting his back to him. He didn't want him to see the tears that fell down his cheeks. 

Family. 

He wasn't sure he had ever actually had one of those. He had one now and he wasn't going to let anything bad happen to any of them. He would do anything for them. 

He closed his eyes against the tears. 

He slept peacefully knowing that he was safe with his family.


End file.
